


leaving the garden of eden

by cabriestars (cabriesun)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Fluff, Goodbyes, Hurt Shiro (Voltron), It's Soft, M/M, PART 2 IS EXPLICIT, Pre-Kerberos Mission, Raw Sex, Reunion Sex, Shiro and Lance Freaking Love Each Other, emotionally hurt, kind of fluffy?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-25
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2019-05-28 15:18:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15052076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cabriesun/pseuds/cabriestars
Summary: At Lance’s freshman orientation for The Galaxy Garrison, he won a lifesize poster of Takashi Shirogane. “Shiro” for short, he was told later on. He’s the Garrison’s golden boy, known across the country as one of the greatest pilots that had ever come out of their training program. It was a lot to compete with, and having a poster bigger than himself in his dorm room didn’t help.





	1. when two became one

**Author's Note:**

> my sfw piece AND nsfw piece for the 'kiss me' zine! i'm so so honored to be in this wonderful project and honestly can't even put into words how amazing it is!
> 
>  
> 
> **PLEASE NOTE: PART 1 IS RATED T, AND PART 2 IS EXPLICIT**
> 
>  
> 
> specifically, my kiss was 'goodbye kiss' for the first part, and 'one small kiss, pulling away for an instant, then devouring each other' and this is how i interpreted them!
> 
> you can sign up to download the zine [here](https://shancesupportsquad.tumblr.com/post/175158124177/it-is-our-pleasure-to-finally-bring-kiss-me-an).

At Lance’s freshman orientation for The Galaxy Garrison, he won a lifesize poster of Takashi Shirogane. “Shiro” for short, he was told later on. He’s the Garrison’s golden boy, known across the country as one of the greatest pilots that had ever come out of their training program. It was a lot to compete with, and having a poster bigger than himself in his dorm room didn’t help.  
  
But Lance admired Shiro greatly at the time. To clarify, he literally wanted to _be_ him at some point. His peers and superiors at the Garrison nicknamed him ‘Starboy’, because of his shameless affirmation of love for the stars.  
  
“A man who’s had his dreams set on the galaxy since he was a little boy,” Iverson had preached to his freshman class, “that’s the sign of a true contender here at the Garrison.”  
  
Yeah, it was a _lot_ to live up to. But fortunately, Lance was (and frankly, still is) the luckiest student in the Garrison when it came to the likes of Takashi Shirogane. Despite the poster he hung proudly in his room and the delinquent reputation he managed to carry over from primary school, Shiro managed to fall head over heels for his inferior, and vice versa.  
  
But now, as their days and nights together unfold to reveal what they know is coming, Lance can’t bring himself to accept the fact that he’ll have to let Shiro go the next morning.  
  
“You’re zoning out again.”  
  
Lance blinks calmly, craning his neck to face his boyfriend. He looks more lovely than ever, the moonlight caressing his features delicately. He’ll certainly miss tracing his fingers against Shiro’s jawline; it’s his favorite place, without shame.  
  
“Sorry,” he apologizes promptly, “my head is everywhere with, you know…”  
  
“Tomorrow?”  
  
Shiro offers him a sympathetic smile and Lance allows it, returning the gesture as their boots knock against each other every once in awhile. He’s set to leave tomorrow, the time flying by faster than Lance could muster. One minute the high ranking officer was bursting into the room, acceptance letter crushed by his shaking excited hands, and the next they were at the pinnacle of Shiro’s patience and Lance’s inner dread.  
  
With a little abuse of power and lovesickness taking the wheel, the two managed to sneak up to the roof of Lance’s dormitory, barely attempting to suppress their quiet laughs and lame sound effects (the younger of the two couldn’t help but sing Mission Impossible). There was no time for them to worry about what could happen if they got caught, for Shiro’s days were numbered, and Lance isn’t sure if the last time would _be_ the last time.  
  
“It’ll be over before you know it.” The assurance that Lance knows is coming starts to overflow, falling out of Shiro’s mouth in a rush, “I’ll be back on Earth, ready with my arms wide open to catch you.”  
  
“You better catch me Kashi. If I fall, you’re gonna regret it.”  
  
“I’ll catch you,” he seals the promise with a chaste kiss on Lance’s forehead, “I always do. And I always will.”  
  
“I know…”  
  
Lance returns the gesture, pressing his thin lips to Shiro’s palm. It’s unfair, how much the younger has to give up in order for Shiro to chase his dreams. But he also has to consider that Shiro’s dreams existed before Lance was even in the picture. If there’s something that he loves more than Lance, it _has_ to be the stars.  
  
If he’d known sooner, he wouldn’t have taken their early morning cuddles for granted. He would have chosen to kiss Shiro more often (even with his face mask plastered all over his skin). There’s so much he would do differently if he knew he’d be losing the one person keeping him sane in the system.  
  
“Lance?”  
  
_Fuck_. He zoned out again.  
  
The first thing he sees are Shiro’s hands unfurling before him, revealing a golden chain attached to a small charm.  
  
“I got you something,” he begins, “just so you know, part of me will still be _here_ , even though I’m not here, or, you know…”  
  
“Shiro…”  
  
The elder stops himself from going off on a tangent, simply holding his open hand out to his lover. Lance clasps a palm over his, squeezing before taking the gift carefully.  
  
“This is for you; if you haven’t figured that out yet.”  
  
The glittering charm catches his attention first, and Lance can’t help the laughter that bursts out.  
  
“Is this an _apple_ , Takashi?”  
  
Lance’s laugh echoes into the night as he’s fondly reminded of the day they were brought together by an apple that he’d so carelessly (and accidentally) thrown at Shiro’s face. It’s a fond memory; one that certainly got him in trouble, but one that began the downward spiral of endless adoration for his superior.  
  
“Just in case you forget our humble beginnings.”  
  
There’s humor on the tip of Shiro’s tongue, but Lance’s slow-to-fall tears tell a different reaction. He unhooks the necklace, handing it to him urgently.  
  
“Can you put it on for me?”  
  
“Course,” Shiro nods, dexterous fingers reaching to clasp it around Lance’s neck. It falls comfortably over his collarbones, the charm resting in the center, below his neck. The younger man turns to him seeking approval of the new neckwear, but all he receives is a kiss upon his unsuspecting lips.  
  
Lance melts into it, Shiro’s warmth flooding through his previously lifeless body. His fear of losing the man he’s grown to love leaves him feeling so empty. He usually isn’t the type to let trivial concerns consume him, but Shiro is so much _more_ than trivial. In a few short months he’s become everything close to life itself; the oxygen he needs to breathe.  
  
This is it. Lance is losing his lifeline. Temporarily, sure, but does he really have a say in whether Shiro makes it back safe or not? He’s repeated the fact to himself so many times, hoping it would sink in before the final night so he wouldn’t have a meltdown, but _here he is, about to have a meltdown_.  
  
Salty tears slip between their molded lips, Shiro pulling apart as soon as he tastes it.  
  
“Lance, hey--”  
  
“No no,” Lance holds his hand up quickly, “don’t, it’s okay. I swear. I was literally waiting for this. It’s just the waterworks putting on a show.”  
  
“Oh, sweetheart…”  
  
The cadet is being pulled into his lover’s embrace in seconds, showered with kisses and sweet nothings that only translate into empty promises that Lance is more than aware Shiro can’t fulfill, no matter how hard he tries. It’s a truth that he’ll have to work to accept while he waits for the day Shiro returns, but it’s a truth nonetheless:  
  
The universe doesn’t belong to them.  
  
  
  
  
“Here we are.”  
  
The two boys stop in front of Lance’s quarters, pausing briefly before he opens the door and leaves Shiro for good. The former unfortunately has class during the launch, which the instructors have decided to stream instead of bringing everyone out to witness the spectacle. So here is where the two lovers would part, to their disapproval.  
  
“God, I wish the Garrison would just figure out time travel,” Lance pouts playfully.  
  
“Huh?” Shiro tries to muffle his laughter, considering it’s long after curfew.  
  
“What I _mean_ ,” He reaches out, motioning for him to shuffle closer to his figure, leaned up against the doorway, “is that I would literally stop time if it meant I could live in this moment with you for the rest of my life.”  
  
Shiro hums, pressing their foreheads together as his hand snakes past Lance’s hip, clutching onto his lower back. He brings his face close, close enough that Lance can smell the strength of his cologne mixed with his lavender-scented conditioner. He can pick out the faint spearmint gum that he’d just tasted on his lips as well, the concoction of _Shiro_ making it that much harder to let go.  
  
“I will come back for you,” his boyfriend whispers against his lips, crowding his space in all the right ways. Lance lets out a tremulous sigh, wrapping his arms loosely around Shiro’s neck, “Do you believe me?”  
  
Lance purses his lips.  
  
“That you’ll come back?”  
  
“Yes,” Shiro repeats, “do you believe me when I say I’ll come back for you.”  
  
“I do,” he responds truthfully, “I believe you’ll come back for me, so long as the universe allows it.”  
  
“Fuck that universe,” Shiro mutters, tugging them impossibly closer together, “ _you_ , are my universe. And I will come back for you if it means floating in space for 30 years until I come back to Earth.”  
  
“You and I both know that it takes a lot longer than thirty years to float from Pluto to Earth,” Lance chuckles, though the weight of his declaration puts his poor heart into cardiac arrest.  
  
“Whatever,” Shiro kisses him once more, locking his arms in place. The younger can _feel_ his promise in the manner his mouth moves, nudging gently, yet pushing far enough to elicit sparks that only Shiro can give him. Shiro’s thumbs caress his lower back, rubbing circles as he pulls away from the passion-driven kiss.  
  
“Wait, before you go…”  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Can I have another one?”  
  
They both have to try not to let their laughter get too loud as Shiro lifts Lance up in the air, granting him with another kiss. Hands card through his dark locks as he tries to draw all the love he can out of this last embrace. He knows that the next morning when he wakes up, Shiro will be stepping into a space suit instead of inside his dorm room.  
  
The end comes eventually, the elder refusing to leave without leaving Lance with pecks all over his face, and a mark on his neck to remember who his man is. As Shiro disappears behind the corner with a squeak of his boots and the last sparkle from his dazzling smile, Lance’s heart sinks. For the climax has passed, and now he has to search for his resolution.  
  
He enters his room, creeping past Hunk, who snores his life away in the bed opposite of him. Attempting to keep quiet is a challenge as he slips his boots off, his Garrison uniform following soon after. Lance digs through his drawers until he finds Shiro’s worn out long-sleeved Garrison tee, slipping it on as soon as the man’s scent floods his nostrils.  
  
The climb to his bed feels a lot slower, and a lot more exhausting without Shiro to playfully lift him up. He already misses the taunts he would throw at him, calling him short though he’s only two to three inches smaller than him.  
  
Lance grins at the moments he’s recalled, sitting up in bed and staring up at the lifesize poster he refuses to take down, even after they’d gotten together. His heart hammers as he moves closer to Shiro’s face, a wide grin plastered on his face. The stories he’s heard about posing for the pictures, _god_ , they’ll never get old.  
  
Tears build up once more, and the young cadet lets them fall as he presses his lips to the glossy print, picturing it’s Shiro instead of a cheap, flimsy piece of paper.  
  
“Goodbye, starboy.”


	2. call out my name

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can’t come back from the dead.  
>  _You can’t come back from the dead._  
>   It’s what Lance has been told since the day he could articulate and comprehend words. Once you died, you were gone. Where you went was a different story in itself. It made sense, and Lance built everything he believed about life and death on that foundation. That once you died, there was no return.
> 
> Lance couldn’t find any sort of defense of what he thought he knew when he, Hunk and Pidge stumbled behind Keith into the Garrison’s emergency base and saw Shiro; torn and tattered, but more importantly, alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and here's the second part of this beautiful piece i got to create!
> 
> this is my NSFW part, rated E for all that nasty soft goodness.
> 
> hope you enjoy!

You can’t come back from the dead.  
  
_You can’t come back from the dead._  
  
It’s what Lance has been told since the day he could articulate and comprehend words. Once you died, you were gone. Where you went was a different story in itself. It made sense, and Lance built everything he believed about life and death on that foundation. That once you died, there was no return.  
  
Lance couldn’t find any sort of defense of what he thought he knew when he, Hunk and Pidge stumbled behind Keith into the Garrison’s emergency base and saw Shiro; torn and tattered, but more importantly, alive.  
  
When you die, you’re not supposed to come back.  
  
He’d lost any sense of communication, blabbering until he eventually fell to his knees, fresh tears pricking at the corners of his crystal blues. There was a hurricane of feelings withering within him; happiness, relief, the year of mourning that he refused to acknowledge creeping up on him, and maybe more that he couldn’t comprehend quite yet.  
  
Hunk was the one who snapped him back to reality, the pressing situation they had so stupidly gotten themselves into.  
  
“Lance! We have to _go!_ ”  
  
Neither Hunk or Pidge knew what happened behind closed doors. They didn’t know that when they went to their honors society meetings, Shiro would sneak into their bedroom and make love to him, hushed whispers between them melting into breathless moans that they _prayed_ didn’t carry through the other rooms.  
  
There was so much they didn’t know, so much that they’d never understand about Lance and Shiro that was crashing over the younger like a tidal wave, relentless and excruciatingly painful.  
  
When Shiro eventually woke up, Lance decided to keep his distance. He was hardly granted a second glance anyway, the eldest of the group calling out for Keith the second he could move his mouth. Jealous wasn’t the word for it, no. Lance was better than that. He and Shiro had a lot more than anything Keith and Shiro’s relationship could amount to. But to feel hurt? To feel abandoned after presuming that the man he confessed to loving was _dead?_  
  
That’s not above him.  
  
He let it be, knowing that Shiro was fragile coming from…wherever he was coming from. That was yet _another_ thought he was fighting with. Where had Shiro been this whole time? Why come back now? Could he have contacted home, but chose not to?  
  
His arm was gone; what _happened_ to him? Why was his nose scarred? Did he have amnesia? Did he forget who Lance was? It’s obvious he remembered Keith…  
  
Why was he hesitating to embrace him? His heart only beat with the hope that Shiro’s hushed promises held true. The same promises that he’d whispered against his lips while tears dusted his cheeks.  
  
_What happened to those promises?_  
  
  
  
  
Lance has so many questions, and muddled with his shock and his sadness, he’s starting to overload, and doesn’t have a single clue how to tame it.  
  
Finding Voltron wasn’t on the agenda either, the sudden discovery of flying robot lions setting the entire group on edge. Now they were in space (for Shiro, in space _again_ ), in a previously abandoned castle ship with sudden orders to go to war with a species Lance didn’t even know existed ten minutes ago.  
  
And yes, Shiro is _still_ ignoring him.  
  
He chooses to wait until he can get him alone, back him into a corner and hopefully get the answers he needs. One of those questions being whether what they had back on Earth is one of the memories he lost or not. To have Shiro not remember him, just an empty vessel that held no recollection of their relationship…  
  
Lance isn’t sure. He just, _isn’t sure_.  
  
His opportunity comes five days (he _thinks_ ) into their stay on Arus. Allura, satisfied with the progress they’ve made as Voltron’s new pilots (a concept he still isn’t used to, but he loves Blue, so it’s alright), lets the group have an early night in. Though she leads the team with an iron fist, Lance can now see that there’s a heart hidden somewhere under all that Altean fury.  
  
He’d memorized the walk to Shiro’s room ahead of time, not wanting the potential of getting lost turning into an excuse to run away from this. He _needs_ to confront Shiro, no matter how difficult it’s going to be.  
  
Following the path he mapped out for himself, he’s standing before Shiro’s door in seconds. Nevertheless, before he can even take a deep breath and give himself a pep talk, the Altean ship works its magic and the doorway slides open automatically.  
  
Lance and Shiro find themselves sharing awkward eye contact for a few moments, before Shiro speaks first.  
  
“Lance…”  
  
“Can I come in?”  
  
His stomach does a somersault as he spits it out, taking a couple deep breaths to calm himself as Shiro nods, motioning for him to enter.  
  
“How have you been doing…?” Lance inquires first, leaning against the opposite wall awkwardly. The older man certainly had sets of massive muscles that _definitely_ weren’t there before he left for Kerberos. He wants to ask what they made him do, when he was imprisoned, but doesn’t want to overstep either. Getting into the room is a success in itself.  
  
“Better,” Shiro responds with a hushed whisper, “the flashes come back, here and there.”  
  
“Oh…” Lance nods, biting down on his lip hard. He has no idea where to go from here. There’s so much to acknowledge, but he only has so much nerve. Compressing it into one question that covers it all would be much easier, but does a question like that exist?  
  
The brunette knows he can’t stand here in silence any longer, and heaves in and out slowly.  
  
_Well, here goes everything_.  
  
“Shiro, do you—”  
  
“Do you still love me, Lance?”  
  
He stops talking abruptly, his already weak heart dropping to his feet. It’s nothing he expected Shiro to say; no amount of words can ever express that. But, _God_ , does it hurt to hear him ask that. His body practically aches when his voice cracks on his name. All of Lance’s inquiries lose their significance as he makes his way to Shiro’s bedside, wanting nothing more than to embrace him.  
  
“God, what could make you say that, Shiro?”  
  
“It’s not the same—we’re not the same, _nothing_ is what it was! That includes me and I’m just—”  
  
“Shiro.” Lance stops him, grasping his hands and holding them between their tense bodies, “You know me.”  
  
Shiro nods.  
  
“I don’t—I don’t care what’s happened! God, I was about to break down crying because I thought you didn’t remember me.”  
  
“I was expecting you to move on,” fresh tears kiss Shiro’s eyelashes, “they probably deemed me ‘Killed in Action’, didn’t they?”  
  
Regretfully, Lance nods. But he still holds his lover’s hands tight; _ridiculously_ tight. As if his clutch will somehow take his pain, somehow fix it all.  
  
“I expected you to move on. I had no idea how long I was going to be stuck with the Galra, with _Zarkon_. It could’ve been twenty years, thirty—”  
  
“I never gave up on you, Shiro,” Lance frantically fishes his necklace from underneath his baseball tee, the apple charm glistening in the darkness, “I _never_ gave up.”  
  
Shiro’s eyes gloss over as he stares down at the necklace he’d gifted Lance just a year ago. Intact, unbroken, and still adorning his beautiful body.  
  
“Lance…I can’t believe you kept this.”  
  
“I can; because _I_ _love you_.”  
  
Their hands interlace and the younger makes his move, unable to stand the stagnant tension. Lance places a brief kiss upon his lips at first, because even after his spiel, he’s truly afraid of if he’d feel different. That somehow, his burdens and battles changed more than his physical appearance or his natural disposition. But as he pulls away, lips tingling like a virgin’s, Shito still tastes the same. Despite all the time that has passed, the memories made without him, there’s one thing that hasn’t left him in the dust.  
  
They pull apart, exchanging concerned stares. But he doesn’t want to stare any longer. He’s tired of admiring from afar, and keeping his distance. He needs Shiro in so many more ways.  
  
Lance, desperate and aching for the touch he’s been starved of for months, latches onto him.  
  
“Lance, I--”  
  
Then he’s clambering into Shiro’s lap, pushing him down against the bed and forcing his silence as he crushes them together again. Lance is rough, unforgiving as their mouths slide together. A tug of his collar presses their bodies flush against each other. Shiro returns with the same anguish, fervor creeping down to their groins as they lose themselves.  
  
Lance feels his shirt being pulled over his head, and watches as the cloth is thrown to the side, attention shifting as he’s flipped onto his back roughly.  
  
He’s brought back to their secret rendezvous at the Garrison, memories washing over him in the form of immense pleasure. Hushed kisses, gagged moans, _God_ , the rush of all their encounters fill his veins all at once, overwhelming him as he releases a drawn out sigh.  
  
“Oh…” a whimper follows not far behind, “Shiro…”  
  
Shiro lets his actions speak alternative to his words, a calloused hand gripping his hip and dragging him closer.  
  
“You… I’m not afraid, of your other hand,” Lance trembles, taking note of how Shiro deliberately used his human one only, “it’s still you.”  
  
And then he’s close, scars that didn’t exist before Kerberos suddenly right in front of Lance’s face, a harsh truth in the form of the destruction of Shiro’s face. His eyes are sealed shut, holding back tears Lance wishes didn’t have to fall.  
  
“This…” Shiro turns away, but his lover grips his chin, turning him back abruptly.  
  
“I haven’t looked into your eyes in months.” He pleads, “Don’t look away from me.”  
  
Shiro’s eyes fail to fall open. Lance presses further, refusing to let up.  
  
“ _Please_ , Takashi.”  
  
And maybe it was the way his voice cracked when he said it, the desperation for his love to _return_ from the mental torture he’d condemned himself to, that prompted Shiro to open his eyes and finally confront him.  
  
“Lance,” Shiro breathes, biting down on his lip harshly and turning back down to stare at his bare chest. His hand squeezes Lance’s hip tenderly as the words spill from his lips, “what if I can’t do it the same? What if I can’t love you like I did—”  
  
“Do you want it, Shiro?”  
  
“—and I—huh?”  
  
He pauses, tipping his head back to ocean blue eyes at the sudden inquiry. Lance squirms underneath his body heat until he can comfortably spread his legs in affirmation, eyes never leaving Shiro’s frightened gaze.  
  
“Shiro,” he repeats calmly, a lone finger reaching to trace his shoulder, “do you want me?”  
  
“Yes,” Shiro fails to miss a beat, eyes glossing over with a newfound lust as he finally gets a good look at the man laid out before him. Willing, pliant and still _madly_ in love with him. Lance doesn’t know this, but all that time in the Galra prison convinced Shiro he wouldn’t have anyone to come home and love him like this. He expected Lance to move on, find someone new (as the Garrison proclaimed him KIA).  
  
It’s almost too good to be true. Lance, becoming more aware of Shiro’s weary behavior as the seconds tick away, tenses as his prosthetic arm makes contact.  
  
“Is it okay?”  
  
“It’s cold, but it’s okay…”  
  
“I don’t have lubricant.” Metal fingertips unfasten Lance’s jeans and yank them down from the hips effortlessly, “which, you probably knew.”  
  
“Of course,” Lance replies, heartbeat thumping in his ears as his boxers come off next, cock exposed and eyes wide. It’s been so long since he’s felt an adrenaline quite like this. Shiro’s hand drags on, sparks flying where he touches.  
  
“You still want to go through with this?”  
  
Lance bites down on his lower lip, weighing the options. He could go raw, though it would most likely hurt like _hell_. He isn’t exactly about the pain, but he _is_ about Shiro. The chain around his neck reminds him of that, and answers the question for him.  
  
“Yes. Please.”  
  
The faint musk of the beginnings of sex fills Lance’s nostrils. It’s almost too much for him to handle, goosebumps spreading along his arms and legs. With hips slightly rocking down into Shiro’s girth, he whispers,  
  
“I need you.”  
  
With the consent he needs, Shiro dips down, kissing him with an extra hint of love on the tip of his tongue. Lance watches as his eyes flutter shut, and allows himself to melt into the warmth of Shiro’s kiss instead of caving into the stress that bled into the few kisses they had shared before their brief talk.  
  
Shiro’s clothes come off not long after they get back in the mood. Teeth clash together and the room shrinks, confining Lance as he plasters himself onto Shiro. His fingertips dig divots into his newly scarred back that Lance pays no mind to.  
  
No amount of scars, or trauma, would change the man he’d so hopelessly fallen for back at the Galaxy Garrison. No galaxy would take his starboy away from him.  
  
And his heart swells as he keeps this in mind, moans filling the empty silence that lingers when their lips part. His lover’s teeth attack his neck as  dry fingers prod teasingly at his exposed hole, already clenching and desperate to be filled.  
  
Lance cradles Shiro’s head close, the searing pain coming from his neck only causing his cock to throb more than before.  
  
“Mmgh,” he struggles to get words out, “Shiro—”  
  
But no, it seems that Shiro’s setbacks no longer matter, Lance in absolute agony as he’s deliberately ignored. Shiro’s head sinks down, mouth touching the space between his pecs lightly. He places peppered kisses on his skin, all the way down his hole, tight, and empty.  
  
Lance cranes his neck, searching for the white tuft of hair that belongs to his boyfriend (it hasn’t been discussed, but Lance has no intentions of dropping the label). When he sees Shiro’s brows furrowed as massive hands spread his cheeks, he smiles sheepishly. Shiro poses the question he knew was coming the moment he saw his contorted face.  
  
“You’re so tight…I don’t understand…”  
  
“I couldn’t touch myself when you were gone,” he confesses, a faint roll of his hips dragging Shiro’s attention back to his ass, “it wasn’t the same. It _isn’t_ the same.”  
  
“Oh Jesus have mercy,” Shiro curses under his breath, disappearing from Lance’s view and shoving his tongue in.  
  
Lance’s breath hitches, a moan struggling to leave his throat. Wet, undeniable warmth consumes him and he feels virgin once more, the sweet taste of sex captivating him as if he’s never had it before.  
  
Has it really been that long since he’s had Shiro like this? A year suddenly feels like a thousand when he’s reminded of just how hard the older man loves to grip the undersides of his thighs.  
  
Oh, how Lance loved those bruises in the morning.  
  
And now? He has it back; Shiro, tongue deep inside him, and soon he’ll have Shiro, cuddled at his side to kiss as much as he pleases.  
  
It’s been so long; _too_ long.  
  
“ _Shiro…”_ he breathes, the name suddenly so satisfying on his tongue.  
  
Shiro hums underneath him, pulling off to lock eyes with him.  
  
“Lance,” he breathes right back, eyes fluttering as he recenters, and chest heaving up and down, “you’re so fucking…beautiful like this.”  
  
Shiro takes a daring look at his prosthetic right hand, and Lance’s heart actually sinks when he looks dejectedly at his human left.  
  
“I… I’ve never fingered you with my left hand,” his voice rises anxiously, “maybe if i just…”  
  
“If you feel more comfortable with your right hand, use your right hand.”  
  
To prove his point further, Lance takes ahold of his Galran wrist, tugging it close to him. His eyes scream nothing but encouragement, so Shiro lets him, no matter what concerns he has floating about his mind. Lance’s wet tongue slips out from between his lips, wrapping around metal fingers seductively. Now it’s Shiro’s turn for his breath to hitch, watching with a sudden jolt of excitement as his fingers disappear into his lover’s mouth. And mind, he can _still feel the heat_ around them, Lance’s mouth working wonders on three single digits. His cock twitches, evidently envious of the attention his fingers are getting.  
  
Cautiously, Shiro pulls his hand away and moves to spread Lance wide. He can’t wait any longer, his erection a solid reminder of what his attention needs to be focused on.  
  
Opening Lance up is a trip, almost bringing him to an orgasm with two fingers alone. When he said that he hasn’t masturbated or let another man touch him since Shiro left, he wasn’t kidding. And it shows, watching how quick he’s brought to the edge despite the pain he must be in without any lubricant.  
  
But Lance’s mind is on levels he didn’t know existed, simply aroused by the fact that the man he believes to be his soulmate literally _came back from the dead_. And now, that same man is plotting his death. The pain is nothing if it’s a result of Shiro’s love.  
  
“Are you ready?” Shiro asks cautiously, spitting into his hand and spreading saliva on his aching cock. The act alone almost gets him off and he whimpers as he tries to hold off his finish.  
  
“Never been better,” Lance replies confidently, still unphased by the pain he’s about to endure. Shiro, though still anxious, lines himself up for penetration, sensitive girth sinking in him.  
  
The stretching and tearing of his hole can no longer be masked by desire as the younger’s mouth falls open. His eyes screw shut. His hands grip the sheets. Shiro’s moving as slow as humanly possible, but it does nothing to ease the burn. Lance isn’t sure if it’s because Shiro’s just packing where it counts, or if it’s the absence of lube, and can’t bring himself to draw a proper conclusion as his thoughts numb down to utter nothingness.  
  
“Lance,” Shiro croaks, flesh hand caressing the curve of his collarbone, “are you okay?”  
  
“Keep going,” he heaves quietly, “s’g-gonna get better once you’re a—all—”  
  
“Sh sh sh…”  
  
Shiro hushes him quickly, in hopes that his voice and his kiss alone can ease the agony.  Lance’s, and his own. His lips press into his eagerly, passion long past tangible. It practically floods the brunette’s very being; his body rises off the bed, desperate to embrace whatever his lover can give him. The discomfort is still present, though subsiding. But there’s no room to ponder on it. Not when Shiro’s tongue licks into his mouth, further spreading his body heat.  
  
The stinging numbs down to a dull throb, Lance’s breathing slow, increasingly languid as he comes down from his distress. Shiro, who is surely losing his mind from remaining so still, keeps a static expression of adoration for his partner. Even in discomfort, he can’t deny the fact that he’s ridiculously in love with the boy below him. A flying castle in the middle of space, warrior robot lions, and the damn real possibility of mass genocide, but Lance will always remain unchanging. Temperamental, emotional, high-strung, and the love of his life.  
  
A suppressed ‘move’ brings Shiro back from his moment in the clouds, drawing his hips back slowly and watching for Lance’s expressions. His dark blues are tipped to the ceiling, dripping with arousal while his hands latch around Shiro’s fixed wrists.  
  
They reach a pace that works for the both of them, Lance curling into Shiro’s thrusts, and the latter trying his very hardest not to take the young man’s hips and pound into him endlessly. The drag on his cock along Lance’s walls sends sparks flying up his spine. Shiro’s mouth falls to his neck as the brunette’s head lolls to the side, sucking a hickey into his skin.  
  
The room fills with moans and gasps. Lance’s nails claw at Shiro’s marred back. The pads of Shiro’s fingers undoubtedly dig deep enough to bruise. And his lips, _God_ , his lips attack with no mercy, sloppy as his tongue drags across the brunette's.  
  
Lance can barely breathe when his orgasm creeps. He almost forgot what the stir felt like.  
  
“S-Shiro I’m—”  
  
The words are elsewhere, Shiro’s name the only rational thought that survived the night. His lover groans above him, deafening and unbridled as he comes. Expecting a warning before he feels hot liquid pumping into him, Lance reacts prematurely, white spattering on both their chests. Shiro collapses on the young man’s chest, limbs unable to hold him any longer.  
  
His lean figure springs off the bed once more, an invisible tether tugging him up and keeping him there, fingers gripping the sheets. Drool hangs from the side of his mouth as he gasps for air.  
  
Lance convulses for a while longer, humming when Shiro reappears in front of him. He presses their lips together, soft and tender with his movements. A thumb caresses his cheek; eyelashes flutter against his skin. Lance, for the first time in a year, feels at home. Completely engrossed in Shiro, though his homecoming isn’t what he assumed it would be.  
  
He chooses not to speak for the rest of the night, convinced he’s said enough. That he’s _shown_ enough of what he’s feeling.  
  
Shiro toys with the charm on the necklace he’d given Lance the day of his departure, drifting into a rather peaceful slumber as he cradles his lover close. As if he’d slip away if he let up in the slightest.  
  
Though the man before him his broken beyond repair, Lance knows his boyfriend. And he knows the love they share is stronger than the war they’re bound to endure.  
  
Whether that be the war in Shiro’s mind or the war against the Galra.  
  
The brunette smiles, carding his hand through the fresh patch of white hair that adorned his boyfriend’s head.  
  
They’ll make it. They already survived Kerberos, and Lance is ready to take whatever the world has to throw at him and his love.

**Author's Note:**

> i also have commissions open, so if you wanna commission me, you can check that out here on my [commissions post](https://sheith-keef.tumblr.com/post/174179920334/price-a-penny-a-word-ex-5-500-words-after) here!
> 
> or, you can buy me a [ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/sheithkeef).
> 
> or, you can come [scream with me](https://sheith-keef.tumblr.com) on tumblr!


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